The Scent that Suits Him the Most
by Ertal77
Summary: Follow-up of "A Dark Cloud Over his Soul"; it's not necessary to understand this fic, but recommendable. Dark!Sebastian, and slightly dark!Ciel. Anyway, it follows the manga after the Noah's Circus arc and BEFORE the next arc. The Undertaker is still that bizarre "person" who helps Ciel from time to time.
1. Chapter 1

The next time Ciel Phantonhive reeked of blood and fire was by accident. Sebastian and he were in a warehouse at Limehouse, near the river, where an illegal factory operated by Chinese and Indian immigrants was burning like a torch. The roof was crumpling, menacing to fall down like a pyramid of cards, and the parched timber the walls were made of was spreading the fire very quickly. They didn't get to know the origin of the fire, but with so many fabrics and old machinery it wasn't that odd; any careless smoker could have been the source. And within the hundred of scrawny workers living cramped together in the basement, of course many of them went upstairs at night to have a shared smoke.

Ciel watched in horror as the roof started to crumble. A cough fit had him bent for a full minute, and he realised he had to run from the building as fast as he could, or the smoke would asphyxiate him in no time. His eyes were already watering. And where was that damned butler of his?

"Master…"

Ciel turned, covering his mouth and nose with the brim of his jacket.

"There you are! Move, do something! There are still a lot of people in the basement!"

The workers were running and trying to flee from the ruined warehouse, and the earl could hear lots of voices and movement from outside, from the neighbouring houses, so it was obvious that some help was going to arrive in order to prevent the fire to spread. But he didn't think it was going to arrive soon enough, and the exit door was too narrow to allow all those people to escape in time. Some of them (how many? Forty? Fifty? More?) were going to get trapped by the roof and the fire.

"But master, Lord Vauxhall is escaping. We have to choose, either catching him or helping these people out!"

Ciel didn't hesitate at all, as Sebastian noticed with delight.

"What are you waiting for? Let's go after him!" the young lord shouted.

They caught the man ten minutes later, trapping him against the black and icy waters of the Thames. Lord Vauxhall's doings weren't her Majesty's business, but the man had challenged the underworld the Phantomhives had sworn to keep quiet and in order; so Ciel wasn't interested in taking him to jail. Lord Vauxhall (around fifty years old, black beard with grey streaks in it, dressed in a dark grey suit of magnificent quality, as Ciel observed with almost boredom) looked the younger lord in the eye for a moment and he obviously saw all of it, because instead of trying to beg for his life, he simply jumped into the river. Winter was unmerciful at that time of the year, and Ciel considered the chances of the man: he didn't have many, but they weren't as low as zero, either.

"Sebastian, make sure he never comes up from the river".

"Yes, my lord".

And the dark shadow of the butler was soon lost under the black waters. The earl watched the darkness for a moment, in vain, and suddenly a muffled sound made him turn.

A tall man shrouded in black stepped in the dim circle of light under the nearest gas lamp, his shoes tapping loudly on the deserted street. Ciel hold his breath until he saw the man letting his hood slip backwards, and a mane of white long locks started to fall down from its restraint. He couldn't see the man's eyes, but that smile was unmistakeable. As were the dreadful scars around the man's throat and across his ageless, handsome face.

"Good night, my dear earl!" the man greeted, in a cheerful voice.

"Undertaker", Ciel whispered. He couldn't say that he was surprised, because hardly anything surprised him anymore, but he certainly didn't expect to meet that strange man there.

"You have had a busy night, Ciel Phantomhive", the Undertaker stated. He stopped for a moment, and he seemed to listen to the distant noises; indeed, Ciel could hear the screams and the frightful creaks of the fire and the building still falling down. "Ah, earl… When you will learn how valuable souls are? Even the tiny, least important soul is sacred, you know?"

The young earl said nothing. He was focussed in the Undertaker (one could never truly rely on him), but he was also thinking about how much time would take Sebastian to end that damned lord so they could come back home. He certainly needed a bath and a change of clothes.

The Undertaker leaned forward, again seeming to listen, and he finally said:

"The Shinigamis are having a packed night, too, thanks to you…"

Ciel frowned.

"I didn't start the fire."

"You didn't help to avoid it either. And you have something that could have saved a lot of lives… though you decided against it."

He meant Sebastian, of course, and that thought made Ciel feel uncomfortable. He knew the Undertaker suspected Sebastian's nature, of course, but he didn't like to talk about it with him. And he didn't like that someone tried to make him feel guilty.

"I see that you don't value even your own soul, earl, as you are making it head to hell… Tst, tst, tst… What a naughty boy. So young but yet so evil".

Ciel turned to look again at the river, disgusted.

"It's not like if my soul had any chance of going to heaven, either way", he whispered.

He didn't say it for the Undertaker, but for himself. But he heard nevertheless, because suddenly the man was just behind him, mere inches away, and his breath caressed the boy's ear when he answered:

"I know you don't expect heaven or hell… but there are other ways, young earl…"

Ciel turned his head slightly, shocked. He could see now the yellowish eyes of the tall man, and that wide grin, and he felt sick. What was the Undertaker talking about? What other ways? For him, there was just one: the Great Void, the nothingness that would greet him once Sebastian ate his soul. There was nothing else!

The man's eyes looked down; Ciel followed his gaze and found himself staring at an object on the Undertaker's hand. It was a silver chain, and crimped along it there were a number of lockets, the kind that usually contained a hair lock of someone dear who had passed away. The Undertaker placed the chain with the lockets on Ciel's hands. Astonished, the boy watched carefully the lockets and read the dates and initials inscribed in the delicate objects. Some of them dated back to three hundred years ago, but one was just twenty years old. He didn't recognise any of the initials, but made an effort of recording them on his mind for later study.

"This is my way out, Ciel Phantomhive…" The Undertaker whispered softly, leaning until he was touching the young earl's ear with his lips; Ciel was too shocked to move away. "The only one I can offer. Think of it." And then his lips went still down and Ciel felt them dragging along his jaw. Was that… a kiss… of sorts? Before he could react besides gasping, the strange man straightened up and added: "Your butler is coming back, so I'll have my leave now. It was a pleasure talking to you, earl, as always."

And he retrieved his silver chain and moved away so fast that Ciel's eyes could barely follow him; the man walked fast and disappeared among the shadows in the time Ciel needed to turn towards him. He was left there, alone, feeling confused and slightly angry, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at the comforting sight of Sebastian, the reliable Sebastian, who looked at him with a pleased smile on his face.

"The deed is done, young master. It's past your bedtime, if I'm allowed to say it."

"Let's go, then."

The demon took the boy between his arms and jumped high, towards the sky. He would fly to the Phantomhive Manor now that it was dark night and the few awake people were too busy trying to smother the fire and tending the injured. He felt his master twitching in his arms, looking for a comfortable position until he found it, and smiled while he inhaled, deeply, the fragrance of his charge. Blood and fire. YES.


	2. Chapter 2

Some days later, the young earl was sitting down behind his desk, frowning at a piece of paper in front of him. The offending paper was a list of the initials and dates he remembered from the Undertaker string of lockets. He had written them down as soon as he came back home that night, and had been able to remember six of the seven lockets' details. After that, he ordered Sebastian to obtain a list of the dead people who matched those initials and dates of death. Efficient as ever, the long register had been on Ciel's desk the next day.

The earl had read those names again and again, looking for something unusual, something out of the ordinary that stood up and gave him some kind of clue. What did the Undertaker mean that night?

And now that he had had the time to study the list of names, he had found the one that stood up, but he was still clueless.

_Claudia Phantomhive. Died at 36 years old. 13__th__ July 1866._

He wasn't born yet, when she died. But he knew the name, of course. His grandmother. There was a small painting of her somewhere in the manor, as well as a daguerreotype of her as a bride, beside her groom, both of them with wide smiles and slicked hair.

So… Why would the Undertaker have her grandmother's locket? And why would he let Ciel know? What was the meaning of that? Frustrated, Ciel sighed and leaned back on his huge armchair. He rang the servant's bell.

"Yes, young master?" Sebastian was there in a moment, quicker than any other servant could never be.

"Prepare the car. I'm going downtown."

"What for, may I ask?"

Ciel looked at his butler, the pleasant smile plastered on his handsome features, as always, and was tempted to tell him. After all, he always told him everything. But in the end he just said:

"I'm going to pay a visit to the Undertaker."

And that was all his explanation.

They arrived to the Undertaker's shop at sunset. Ciel knew the man would still be there, even after closing time, and he wondered if the man actually lived there in the shop, in a backroom or upstairs perhaps. He had never asked. In fact, he realised how little he knew about the strange man. He didn't even know his real name, only that odd nickname that suited him so well, although it described his job more than his person.

"Sebastian, wait in the car."

"Master?" The butler was clearly disappointed; it was almost unheard of them to not visit the Undertaker together.

"It's an order, Sebastian. Don't move from the car."

The demon was too shocked to add his usual '_yes, my lord_', and the earl climbed down the car with a satisfied smile on his face.

The store was dark, dimly lit by some candles scattered on different surfaces, and the young man had to stand inside the doorstep until his sight grew accustomed to the gloom. The contents of the shop didn't scare him at all (coffins and caskets of all sizes, basically), and he wondered if he had ever been scared of them. When was the first time he came to the shop? Wasn't it when his predecessor was still alive? He couldn't remember.

A dark shape suddenly moved in the shadows, making him gasp, but he of course knew it was the owner himself, appearing from wherever he rested when he wasn't working. A wide and lazy smile spread across his face; again, Ciel couldn't see those yellowish eyes, hidden under white bangs, but he imagined the mischievous glint of amusement in them.

"Good evening, my dear earl!" the man greeted with a flourish. "Please, sit down and I would bring you a tea and a biscuit. I see you have left your loyal guardian outside, uh?"

Ciel sat down on a casket, as there was no chair at sight. The odd man came back almost immediately with a cup of decent tea and a plate of hard bone-shaped biscuits. The earl dipped a biscuit into his tea, knowing he wouldn't be able to eat it otherwise, and wondered if the man had prepared the tea just minutes ago, as it seemed. Did he know he was coming to visit? He didn't want to ask more than necessary.

"I hope the reason of your visit", the Undertaker started, "is that you have already decided on… our question."

Ciel put the cup and saucer aside, on a low table, and stared at the man.

"I lack a great amount of details before I can make my mind. As for now, the only thing I know for sure is that you own a hair locket that belonged to my grandmother; that's all."

The man's smile grew still wider, if possible. His teeth were incredibly white and perfect.

"I'm sure someone as intelligent as the young earl has come to some conclusions in front of that fact…"

Ciel sighed and crossed his legs, annoyed.

"You are overestimating me, then."

The man came closer to the boy, leaning over until their heads were levelled, and then Ciel could see his eyes: strange, alluring, mesmerising. And yes, as mischievous as Ciel remembered them.

"Perhaps I was wrong the entire time, and it was that butler of yours who is the brain behind your doings, young earl?" the man sang, mockingly. But he straightened up and went to pour two cups of tea more. "Let's see, Phantomhive… What do you think those lockets represent?"

Ciel gulped and fixed his eyes on the floor. He answered reluctantly in a whisper.

"They are souls."

"Exactly!" The Undertaker passed him a new cup of tea and pretended to toast with his own cup. "That's my clever boy! Those seven lockets are souls. MY souls, to be precise."

Ciel felt his jaw drop. His? How on earth…? The Undertaker laughed and sat in front of him. The man sipped his tea and placed the cup on a side table. He pulled back his hair from his forehead, still smiling, so Ciel could see his features in full. He was attractive in a way, odd in another; it was impossible to guess his age, because he didn't have any wrinkle, not even around his ever present smile, but that white hair made him appear aged. And those terrible scars, which Ciel remembered that have seemed terrifying to him at first, took away some of his beauty, after all, tipping the scale towards "odd looking".

"I bet you have seen these before, am I right? The kind of places and situations that butler of you must be taking a kid like you… tst, tst…"

And he signalled a pile of books placed on the floor, close to the casket Ciel was sitting on. The boy reached out, curious, and grabbed the first one. It didn't have a title on the cover, just some golden initial on the spine: C. T. But as soon as the young earl opened it, a yellow bright light surged from the pages, and Ciel almost dropped it in shock. When the book was fully open, something familiar appeared: images in the air, glowing in the dark room, faces and places in black and white, framed and cut in a long string of images that went on and on… And yes, Ciel had seen that before: it was a cinematic record. He had never seen it shaped like a book, though, and how could the Undertaker had those cinematic records? Only the shinigamis could pick them up and preserve them… wherever it was. Perhaps the Undertaker had stolen them. That thought made the man go up some places in the earl's mental scale: he knew of the shinigamis, knew about the cinematic records (more than Ciel himself) and he even know how to grab them! But what for? And, more important, why was his grandmother's one in his possession?

The Undertaker laughed again, delighted.

"Oh, my dear earl, if you could see your face right now! So expressive! All your thoughts passing through your eyes. Aaaah, isn't it cute, to be so young?"

Ciel straightened, annoyed as he always got when someone mentioned his age.

"Will you explain, or do I have to guess again? What are those books for? Have you stolen them from the shinigami?"

The man laughed again, but there was nothing nice about his laugh this time, and Ciel feared that he had offended the Undertaker. And that wouldn't do.

"Why would I stole them," the man said, sharp, "when I can own them legally? Yesssssss, my dear boy, they are mine by right… I was a shinigami, long time ago, one of the most powerful ones ever existed, if I can be so bold to say it myself, and I still retain some privileges…"

_That would definitely explain some things…_, Ciel thought, doing his best at keeping a straight, poker face.

"One of them", the smiling man continued, "is keeping a soul after the living person dies. Of course I can only do that occasionally, or it would be a mess in the shinigamis inner records… Can you imagine William T. Spears finding out that A LOT of cinematic records are missing from the archive?" The Undertaker started to giggle, closing his eyes and leaning back, until a drop of drool went down his chin. He wiped it with his long sleeve and tried to go back to the "business like" tone. "Anyway, as I was saying, I only keep a soul when is attached to a person who is very special to me."

A shudder went down Ciel's spine at those words. He definitely didn't want to go there.

"And was my grandmother a special person for you?"

The man looked serious for once.

"Yes. My dear Claudia. He had to go too soon. Your father, my dear young earl, was very special to me as well, but he had his own plans for his future and refused my offer. And then, there's you…"

His lazy wide smile spread again, and Ciel could see again those yellow eyes glinting under his white locks. He gulped, feeling uneasy.

"What's with me?"

He tried to sound scornful and haughty, but he felt that he ought to have Sebastian by his side right then; he had been a bit stupid to leave him outside.

"You? You are another Phantomhive who is going to leave this world too soon. And besides, your soul is not going to achieve heaven, or go damned to hell, because it will be just a meal for that demon of yours…"

_So he knew! _Ciel clenched his jaw and raised his hand to his eye, the eye with the contract mark. The Undertaker laughed again and moved aside his long clothes, showing Ciel something long and metallic and with a skull. He needed a long moment to realise what was the object, because he had never seen any with that shape. But a former shinigami, one with lasting privileges? Then he must have a death scythe!

"You don't need to call him, earl. And this scythe beats any demon, even the strongest one."

Ciel smiled with pride, as he always did when they talked about Sebastian. A shinigami, stronger than Sebastian? That had to be a joke…

"I'm not a common shinigami, earl… Want to make him come in and see, eh? Wanna bet?"

Something in the man's amused eyes told him that would be a very bad idea. He shook his head.

"Good! Now we are talking!" The man stood up and went to sit close to Ciel, on the same casket as him, in fact, and passed his arm over the boy's shoulders. He whispered in his ear: "These souls of mine are well kept, I assure you… They are _happy_. They feel loved and in peace. Would you like that? Eh?"

The boy was trembling, his hands closed around the fabric of his trousers.

"I can't hear you, young earl…"

"I… I don't know! How do I do it, anyway?"

"Oh, that's very simple. You just have to call my name when you are dying, before your demon claims your soul". And he whispered a long name very, very quietly, touching with his lips the shell of Ciel's ear. The earl held his breath, feeling the man's closeness and his warmth, so different from Sebastian, exciting and exhilarating instead of reassuring like his butler's. He repeated the name in his mouth, in silence. The Undertaker stared at him, only inches away, and then kissed his cheek and sat up, putting some distance again between them. Ciel thought that was a good moment to put an end to the conversation, and stood up.

"I'll take my leave now, Undertaker. I'll consider carefully your offer. Thank you very much."

The Undertaker stood up as well and led the way to the front door. They both said goodbye, and the man greeted Sebastian with his hand; the butler was inside the car, as Ciel had ordered. When the earl sat inside his comfortable car again, he closed his eyes and let Sebastian give the order to the coachman.

"Is everything alright, my lord?"

Ciel opened his eyes again. His butler was looking at him with concern in his dark beautiful eyes. Could demons feel concern? If they couldn't, Sebastian was a master of acting, Ciel thought. He leaned towards the demon, until his forehead touched Sebastian's shoulder, and the butler took the hint and passed his arm around his master's shoulders, supporting him. He surely looked tired and would be sleeping way before they arrived to the manor. Ciel breathed in his butler's scent: soap, cleanliness, and something spicy, clove perhaps? He realised those were the scents he linked to warmth, security and home now, thanks to Sebastian.

"Yes, Sebastian, just take me home."


End file.
